


not a word (but your fine grace)

by incarnandine



Series: LaviYuu Week 2018 [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Lots of Angst, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-War, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incarnandine/pseuds/incarnandine
Summary: It's the last day; tomorrow, the exorcists of the Order will set out on what could well be their final journey.And Lavi?Lavi will cease to exist, will disappear somewhere between the pages of history, not to be spoken of ever again.(LaviYuu week day 2: Fog | Vague, Out Of Reach, Mystery, Eerie, Secrets)





	not a word (but your fine grace)

**Author's Note:**

> Second entry for LaviYuu week! **Day 2** (Tuesday, March 27th): Fog | Vague, Out Of Reach, Mystery, Eerie, Secrets.
> 
> I had an idea centered around the phrase _ink on paper_ for a long, long time and this was a perfect moment to use it. I hope you enjoy, as angsty as it is. (Title taken from a Nightwish song.)

The evening is as quiet as it gets, these days; the calm before the storm, some people in the Order call it.  
  
Lavi is afraid of storms, but the Bookman apprentice in him is not. He's seen so many of them that even the largest thunder leaves no trace of a shiver in his hardened heart; in the grand scheme of things, what do individual people-- groups of them, even-- mean?  
  
It's one of the rare moments when the cheerful mask slips and Lavi takes a deep breath, finally able to rest. It's funny how even that word started having a different meaning to him; recently, being Lavi is what is truly relaxing, the cheerful banter between him and some of the Order members distracting him enough that he almost, almost forgets.  
  
A Bookman may never forget, his grandfather tells him over old, scattered papers; a Bookman may never forget, he repeats often when his apprentice grows older, and the battlefields and hospitals and plague-ridden mansions pile up one over all the others, threatening to melt into one even if he knows all too well that they never will.  
  
After all, a Bookman exists solely to make sure they never will.  
  
"Do you think it's going to rain?" he asks quietly, one gloved hand playing with the ends of Kanda's ponytail. The air seems almost electric around them: the end of the world is so very close and everyone is on edge these days, wearing their emotions on their sleeves more than anytime before. This is when he appreciates Kanda's presence the most: he's open with his emotions, too, but they're usually so very steady; he doesn't repress any of the feelings, because he simply doesn't bother to feel them.  
  
Or at least, this is what Lavi likes to think.  
  
Sometimes he thinks that under that cold exterior he has imagined a completely new Kanda: one that holds long conversations with Lavi, if only in his head; a Kanda that thinks so much, _feels_ so much, that isn't just a pawn on this huge chessboard set up between Allen Walker and the Millenium Earl; one that's more than just ink on paper. A Kanda that Lavi could move closer to, wrap an arm around his waist and bury his face in jet-black hair, smelling of wind and iron and the ever-present Parisian smoke that hangs so low in the air, enveloping the city in a permanent mist; a Kanda that maybe wouldn't smile at him, but the corner of his lips would curl just a little, and a hand would rest over his own, calming the ever-present storm of his thoughts.  
  
It's the last day; tomorrow, the exorcists of the Order will set out on what could well be their final journey.  
  
And Lavi?   
  
Lavi will cease to exist, will disappear somewhere between the pages of history, not to be spoken of ever again.  
  
If only the real Kanda would turn around, would give Lavi just a sharp glance of those stormy blue eyes, then maybe, _maybe_ he could leave in peace.  
  
But Kanda doesn't turn, doesn't even seem to notice Lavi as more than an annoying, twitching hand somewhere at the ends of his hair, too bold and yet too afraid to touch--  
  
\--and Lavi realizes that maybe imagining his own version of Kanda meant he never got to know the real one at all.

**Author's Note:**

> angsty Yuuvi is what I do best after all ahah
> 
> Tomorrow is an art day, so see you Thursday for another LaviYuu week entry <3 and come see me on [tumblr](http://incarnandine.tumblr.com) !


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